Dreams

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Dreams

I got the blues… blues… blues… baby.
Got blues blues blues on my mind.

Sometimes
she thinks…
then sleeps…
often to dream…
and dreaming…
sometimes
wonders
if she will awake…

…eh home?

And… once
awake… finds her
dreams are but distant
echoes of ancient memories gone.

…eh

Editors’ note: We are grateful for Ralph’s permission to use his work in RP.
Please also see his 
“Just Sketching”“Self Portraits” and “Stained Glass Window”.

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Ralph Ivy is in his 70s and he is gesturing still. Still talking, looking and wondering. He is still writing about it and drawing about it. Whatever catches the mood. It is the only way he knows to deal with life. He is an artist and he does what he does.

Object(s) to bring back to life: “Ashtrays! Always available. Waiting for elevator. Sipping coffee. Reading at the library. Leaning back in the bus. I want ashtrays! It’s hard to remain 50’s “hip” and flip a butt aside to light another – when all I get is emptiness and disdainful stares. Oh, well… (Ah, wail…) Life in America.”

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